


Two Dumb Bastards

by fisherlad



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Aftercare, Amaurotine Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Angst, Biting, Blow Jobs, Consensual Sex, Creampie, Dirty Talk, Dream Sex, Emet-Selch is a bottom, Established Relationship, Excessive Fluids, Exhibitionism, Fluff and Smut, Frotting, Gentle bullying, I just went wild with this, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Multiple Orgasms, No Plot/Plotless, Oral Fixation, Public Blow Jobs, Public Sex, Sexual Inexperience, Tentacle Dick, There is unspoken backstory for OCs but whatever, They are both big bastards, Threesome - M/M/M, vaguely canon compliant
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-10
Updated: 2019-11-23
Packaged: 2021-01-26 16:30:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 19,083
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21377122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fisherlad/pseuds/fisherlad
Summary: Just a bunch of self-indulgent OC/Emet stuff. Not everything is nsfw, but the majority is. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
Relationships: Solus zos Galvus | Emet-Selch/Warrior of Light
Comments: 8
Kudos: 68





	1. Rak'tika

**Author's Note:**

> I don't do proofreading/beta testing, so sorry for typos/weird phrasing. I wish I knew how to read

Emet-Selch groaned as he was roughly pushed against the tree, gloved hands scrabbling to find purchase on the bark. The miqo'te was not being gentle as he dug his nails into his hips and leaned in to bite at his earlobe.

"You--mm--truly have no tact, oh great hero..." he grumbled under his breath, glancing back to see the confused mess of emotions on the scholar's face.

It looked like he wasn't sure what he was supposed to be feeling, but it was clear arousal was in there somewhere as he felt his hardness rubbing against him. Emet didn't get a response to his teasing, which prompted a dramatic eye roll.

"I come here, spill my most personal secrets and feelings and all you can think about is fucking me."

Finally, he spoke.

"I don't know what I want." Zana'a confessed, tail swaying slowly from side to side, voice trailing off. It sounded like he had something more to say but wasn't going to give a voice to it.

Emet-Selch snorted derisively, pushing back against him forcefully. As if his body wasn't betraying him completely. Of course, he could understand hiding something away; a secret thought or word unable to be expressed. But this was absolutely ridiculous. From what he had gleaned from their interactions, this was a sharp tempered man with limited patience when it came to others. But there was a sense of desperation now, unlike what he'd seen before.

"Then what, exactly, are you doing? What are you hoping to gain from this little..." Emet paused and waved his hand vaguely, "Experience?"

It was obvious how much Zana'a hated saying the words:

"I don't know."

Emet-Selch couldn't help but laugh, and in response the nails dug further into him and his cheek was rewarded with a particularly deep bite to his neck. He felt the hot sting of skin breaking and blood beading on the surface. He made a mental note on how long and sharp the scholar's fangs were. He found it surprisingly to his liking and rewarded Zana'a with a low moan of encouragement. This time it wasn't mocking.

He had never even thought to humor the thought of him and the warrior of light. It was an asinine concept that he would have dismissed outright. And yet...

Something in his body was stirring, besides the ache starting to spread through his loins. Before his mind could wander and reflect too deeply, he was reminded yet again of the presence of the warrior behind him. He was growing increasingly forward and needy as one hand slowly shifted towards his front, trailing from his stomach and lower. He barely ghosted over his growing erection and moved onto his thigh.

Emet gave a dramatic sigh, rolling his shoulders in a shrug, acting as if this was the greatest inconvenience he had faced to date. 

"Really, you are boring me with this teasing. If you're going to go for it, get on with it."

He caught himself by surprise with the playful attitude he was taking with this and gave a laugh to himself. It was becoming more and more obvious this man had never touched another, and the more he fumbled with his belt, and then his own clothes, he mused that he might have never touched himself either.

"...Wipe that obnoxious smirk off your face." Zana'a snapped, turning red as he met with those calculating gold eyes, a mischievous glint sparkling in them.

"Well, well, awfully pushy for a virgin, aren't we?" he retorted, but still took a moment to aid the poor man in removing his layers of clothes.

"Do you ever stop talking?!" 

Emet-Selch just inclined his head to the side. Zana'a huffed, his temper clearly rising. That was the warrior he had seen and watched. A bad attitude with a barbed tongue. It made the teasing much more fun. The reactions were far better than he had anticipated being in this moment, as well.

Finally, he was exposed to the cool air of the woods, the newly reborn nighttime hiding them from prying eyes and chilling the air far more than before. It was refreshing and he could feel a shiver run through the man behind him.

There was a moment of stillness. Nothing happening, a pregnant pause between them.

Emet-Selch snorted and smirked.

"Don't tell me... you don't know where to go from here?"

It was clear the miqo'te was fed up with his snark and back talking and wouldn't stand another second of it. Something clearly raw and primal welled up inside him and he pushed himself flat against the ascian's back, grinding hard.

"Oh-"

He didn't get another word out, as Emet-Selch felt gloved fingers pushing against his lips, into his mouth to press down and still his tongue. He let out a strange noise, startled, and bit down without thinking. This caused Zana'a to withdraw his hand immediately, hissing loudly but not pushing to try again. He is sure he heard a small 'bastard...' under his breath and that made him pleased.

"...Why are you hesitating to try again? Don't be a coward, now, my dear boy~" Emet crooned, shamelessly opening his mouth to tempt him to put his fingers in again. He was half considering biting down once more if he did; it would definitely be funny.

Zana'a was far too proud to not take the bait, and being called a coward infuriated him. He went to gag him with his fingers again, pushing his face against his neck and giving another sharp bite. This time he took a moment to run his tongue along the mark, nose wrinkling at the taste of the blood but enjoying what his teeth left behind.

Emet-Selch was thrown off, feeling his legs tremble the way they did at this. There was something sickeningly enticing about all of this. Between being gagged, bitten and fondled so clumsily, and by the warrior of all people...it was starting to appeal to him more and more.

He moved his tongue against the fingers in his mouth, not biting down this time but playing with them and giving an enticing moan. This spurred Zana'a on, his free hand wandering, groping around and testing where was best to touch him. Emet wasn't exactly toned, or built, contrasting to the lean but sturdy build of the miqo'te. Still, it was clear the man found him enticing regardless of his frame. Fingers brushed below his navel, and followed their way down, and stilled completely, pausing before taking him in hand.

The ascian let out a particularly undignified groan, having half a mind to bite down again to make him get a move on. This time, Zana'a laughed, not moving an inch. He leaned in, fangs tracing the shell of his ear, murmuring quietly.

"Don't have anything to say now, do you?" His voice was barely audible, a low growl with a more commanding tone than he thought possible out of this inexperienced mess of a man.

The look Emet gave him clearly said he definitely had a thing or two to comment, but he was firmly gagged and clearly enjoying it. He hadn't been on the bottom in a good long while and was relishing it. And being out in the open, well...

Any thoughts were cut short as he finally felt himself being grasped and given a slow, deliberate stroke. It had been far too long since he felt the touch of someone else like this and even at the hands of someone as inexperienced as this, it still was welcome. The texture of the glove, and the warmth he radiated was more than enjoyable and once again, he rewarded Zana'a with sounds of pleasure.

"...Do that again." Zana'a ordered, sounding far too confident for someone who had clearly never even had the thought of jacking off cross his mind.

Emet-Selch played dumb, and shrugged his shoulders. Of course he'd make him spell it out. Admit it, say it, he was desperate to hear this noble virgin warrior have to say something so dirty. 

"Hmmmm...?" Even gagged, his attitude was dripping with mischief as he craned his neck to the side to look back.

Zana'a huffed, ears flicking with agitation - Emet found he really liked that and wasn't particularly sure why - and he spoke plainly, without shame this time.

"Moan for me. Louder." 

Emet purposefully took a moment as if he was mulling it over, watching the expression on his face. Any conflict that had been there earlier had melted away in favor of a heated desire, and he noted he was starting to pant, eyes half-lidded and teeth bared. He looked like a feral beast in heat that was going to take him right then and there.

So he moaned, and loudly. He wasn't concerned about being caught, and didn't particularly care. It wouldn't be his reputation on the line. Zana'a was obviously pleased and started a painfully slow rhythm, breathing heavily against the back of his neck as he jacked him off. He was now completely silent, drinking in every moan he was pulling from Emet. He hadn't even begun to tend to himself.

He stopped his strokes for a few moments every so often, almost curiously exploring his member. Lightly running his fingers along the underside, squeezing his balls, teasing the tip. He seemed constantly desperate to learn, hungry for knowledge, even now. Even with something like this.

Slowly he pulled his fingers from Emet's mouth, an almost embarrassingly excessive trail of drool following after. He wiped it off on the man's front shamelessly and almost nuzzled against his neck. This was of course a mistake on his part, as Emet immediately started his commentary.

"Aren't you going to play with yourself a little, too? Or do you not know how?" he taunted, completely omitting the very solid opinion that he was very much enjoying the handjob he was getting.

"..."

He didn't get a response and that made him pause. That wasn't what he was expecting, and he tried one more time.

"Silence sounds like an admission~ Whatever shall I do with you?"

Zana'a was starting to growl again and that pleased Emet greatly. It was an arousing sound and he pushed his body back against him, shifting his legs so the miqo'te's erection was rubbing between his thighs.

"You want to feel good too, don't you~?" he continued, listening to the rumbling in his chest grew louder.

The stroking stopped and he quickly found himself deprived of the touch he was truly starting to enjoy. It made him give an annoyed sigh, rolling his eyes and turning around dramatically, as if to emphasize what an inconvenience this is.

"Really now, just because you feel incompetent in your own pleasure doesn't mean you have to deny me mine. You are the one who seemed so desperate to feel me up, as well." Emet was laying it on thick, but really, who did this mortal think he was? He was aching now, uncomfortably so.

"Is the answer still 'I don't know?'"

"..."

The silence bothered him, but his curiosity was piqued by the new expression on Zana'a's face. Thoughtful, calculating, as if he was working through something. Finally, it was clear what he settled on.

"Pleasure me." This was an order, plain and simple. Not a request to teach, but a command to get him off. 

The rebellious streak never rested with Emet-Selch and he sneered, moving closer and pressing himself against Zana'a, chest to chest, rubbing their cocks together teasingly. 

"What if I say no?"

That made Zana'a look away, and he said nothing. He was being far more respectful than his attitude deserved and he gave a sigh, purposefully heavy and waved his hand dismissively.

"Oh don't act like that. I'll tend to you, warrior. Mayhaps you will learn a thing or two~" he just about sang.

Emet-Selch had lived hundreds of lives, raised empires, brought down countries, and everything one could think of. And now here he was, running his hands over the man who was destined to fight him and his kind. Here he was, slowly kneeling down and glancing up at him, a defiant look still in his eyes as he complied with the order he was given.

Here was the great Garlean emperor, the powerful Emet-Selch, kneeling and running his mouth along Zana'a's thighs. He watched with piercing blue eyes, ears now perked forward and the fur on his tail fluffed up more than before, every touch made him clench his jaw. He clearly wasn't used to this.

Judging by his personality, he probably wasn't used to any human contact outside the roegadyn that he always had with him, trailing after like a dog. Poor friendless fool, he mused, almost pitying him. A lonely existence that he could feel himself resonating with in a distant way. The twinge of emotion spurred him to leave a soft kiss and slowly drag his lips more delicately over his skin.

Zana'a didn't say anything, focused on watching his actions, but he lifted a hand to touch Emet's hair, brushing it back a little. It was a simple gesture, but it spoke volumes and there was a sudden uncomfortable level of intimacy between the two. It cast a new weight behind everything, and Zana'a surely must have realized it as well. His expression wavered for a moment, a flash of uncertainty, before glancing away.

As he went to pull his hand away, there was a strange ache within Emet that wanted it back, and craved the touch again. Maybe it was because it had been so long, and he himself was more touch starved than he realized, or perhaps he was in a good enough mood to humor him. The thought of the former disturbed him and he tried to put it far from his mind.

Before he could pull his hand fully away, Emet leaned into the touch with a coy grin on his face. Zana'a froze, but hesitantly returned to stroking his hair, thumb stroking his head cautiously. The tender touch against the still-sharp pain of the bite wounds he had inflicted were mingling together interestingly.

"I can't tell if you want it rough or not~" murmured Emet, mouthing at his hardness, never once breaking eye contact, "I don't particularly mind if you do, however."

This was less an invitation and more giving permission. Who was he to stifle his creativity and exploration of what would seem to be his newly discovered urges. It was endearing watching him figure everything out for the first time and try to take charge. Zana'a frowned and Emet smiled in return. He found himself thinking about how cute it looked when he looked bothered. When an ear flicked in agitation. He didn't need to tease as much as he had been doing but he couldn't help it at this point. The reactions were making him feel some kind of way.

Finally his mouth reached its mark, and without hesitation or ceremony, licked a stripe up from base to tip. Zana'a's jaw clenched and he gritted his teeth, trying to bite back a moan. It got caught in his throat and he made a decidedly ungraceful noise which made him look away, a scowl on his face. Emet gave another lick, determined to pull a sound from him whether he wanted to or not.

"Fuck..." he hissed, ears folding flat back. It was clear from the blush rising on his face he was enjoying it, even after barely being touched.

Emet-Selch was truly enjoying teasing him, but that one word sent a heat through his body. His now unattended hard- on aching desperately. He reached one hand down to give himself a stroke as he started to circle his tongue on the tip of zana'a's dick. In return, Zana'a inhaled sharply and clenched the hand in his hair.

"...Stop touching yourself."

This one he was reluctant to oblige. He was already submitting to so much, why should he be sacrificing his pleasure in favor of only servicing him? His eyebrows knitted together in annoyance and he huffed, but didn’t stop moving his mouth, now slowly taking the tip in.

"S-Stop..."

His voice caught in his throat and it came out as a strange stammer, and Emet hummed in return as he slowly worked his way down, tongue running along the underside and giving a soft suck. For once he had no ulterior motives or schemes, but he still mused that this must seem like a truly kind, altruistic deed on his behalf. He was clearly in the warrior's good graces already.

Withdrawing, he licked his lips and looked up with a crooked smile.

"Stop?" he inquired, giving him another lick while waiting for further instruction. He could play an obedient role if desired.

"...No. Don't stop." The man was getting muddled with the pleasure, shaking his head and using the hand tangled in his hair to guide his mouth back down. This sent a shiver down his spine and he let himself be taken to where Zana'a wanted him to go. He didn't resist getting slowly pushed down, either. Letting go of control wasn't always so bad. He swallowed him down easily; thousands of years of practice had its perks, of course.

The heat of his mouth, the warmth and wetness, was clearly getting to his partner, as he shuddered and gently pushed his hips forward experimentally. He looked down to see what Emet's reaction and got an approving moan. This was enough for him to start slowly fucking his face, groaning loudly and tangling his other hand in his hair. His tail was swishing back and forth faster. He wasn't being as quiet as he had been before anymore, some particularly lewd and shameless noises tumbling out of him.

He wasn't completely lax, of course, hand trailing up and down his thighs, circling around to grope at his ass, rub at the base of his tail. The latter action caused him to snap his hips forward a lot more suddenly; clearly he enjoyed that. He would tuck that knowledge away for later.

With how he was panting, how inconsistent and sloppy his thrusts were getting, it was plain he wasn't going to last much longer. Zana'a was biting his lip now, blood beading up, clearly trying to hold back as best he could. He didn't want this feeling to end. Emet put his hands against his hip to push him away and pulled his mouth off, leaving with a vulgar, wet 'pop.' He licked his lips slowly, eyes burning with a desire he hadn't felt in a while. He had this man in the palm of his hand, his pleasure belonged to him. 

"...Against...the tree." Zana'a managed to choke out, panting heavily and looking more and more like a beast every second that went by. 

Emet laughed and shook his head as he got back to his feet, dusting the dirt from his knees. There were now small cuts and rocks pressed into the skin from kneeling and he tutted in annoyance before turning his attention back to the matter at hand.

"If you're going to mount me and try to breed me, or whatever you feral cats do, you better be intending to take care of everything beforehand~"

He was met with a blank stare, ears flat against his head and it was almost like he wasn't listening all the way. Emet sighed heavily, shaking his head. He had to do everything, didn't he? A single snap of his fingers was all it took. It was an easy enough image to make, an unlabeled bottle which he offered to the miqo'te with a short instruction.

"Spread me until you think I'm ready, use this." It was simple enough and something about the statement seemed to have made something click.

The liquid was dribbled over his fingers and he rubbed them carefully against his ass, circling his entrance before starting to thoroughly prep him. Stretching him, carefully and slowly, ensuring he was nice and slick, ready to receive him. Zana'a took his time, taking the lead once again. As all the time had gone by, he had developed a new confidence, his need to be in charge now leaking into this. Emet submitted to this willingly. His body was shaking and he was drooling again, once again gripping the bark and looking back, enjoying the sight of watching himself be fingered. One....two, three. He was really bold, experimentally moving his fingers inside, curling and brushing against him just right. Electricity jumped through his nerves and he let his head drop between his arms, letting out a shuddering breath.

"Enough...Please. Enough." he murmured and this time, Zana'a was the one who was amused.

He sounded as arrogant as he usually did, the taunting grin audible in his voice as he took the chance to mock him.

"Oh? Resorting to begging for me? All that big talk means nothing in the end...Emperor, Ascian, I don't care what you are," he was whispering this into his ear as he lined himself up, very carefully, "Right now, all you are is mine."

The words came out without immediate meaning, outside of dirty talk. It definitely worked to set them both off, Zana'a pushing in without anymore hesitating or dancing around it. Emet groaned loudly at the intrusion, flexing his fingers and finding his legs shaking. While this body was younger than he had been in recent years, it still wasn't on the same level as Zana'a. The force at which he thrust into him was more than he anticipated, now with seemingly all the confidence in the world.

It had to be instincts, a deep need, with how desperately he seemed to be to bury himself in his ass. Arms wrapped around him and he could feel claws pressing through the gloves into his skin, he was gripping so hard. The scholar left bites and sucked on his skin until there were bruises, without thought or reason. He was clearly completely lost in the moment.

Every touch drew more sounds from the two of them. Emet loved feeling as full as he did, and was drooling shamelessly, sweat dripping down his face and onto the ground. Gloved hands found his cock and began to stroke him as they did before, squeezing tighter but not quite able to match the rhythm of the thrusts. He still wasn't as good as he could be, but he felt his hips ache in a way that they hadn't in the longest time.

Zana'a's tail was thrashing back and forth violently now, and shameless filth tumbled from his mouth.

"I'm going to finish inside you, and you'll like it."

"Moan for me. Make those filthy noises."

Expletives, growls and moans. He was like a man possessed with something new, a passion ignited in him. And it was clear they both were reaching the end of the line. Emet was pushing back to meet every thrust eagerly, happy to make as much noise as was ordered. The obscene sounds between them were making him ache with arousal, precum dribbling down Zana'a's hands as he pumped it faster and squeezed lightly. 

"I can't-"

Emet-Selch knew exactly what he was going to say before he cut himself off with a drawn out moan and one final strong thrust, hips twitching as he felt a rush of heat released inside him. Thick, sticky cum painting his insides and making him feel pleasantly full. It took him a few more pumps to finally follow suit, biting his lip as he spilled over the gloved hand and onto the forest floor. The ascian thrust his hips until he had been milked of every last drop, and felt Zana'a slump against his back, chest heaving as he started to come back to his senses.

It was a curious gesture he followed up with, putting his fingers one final time to Emet's mouth. He smirked, eyeing the messy hand, dripping with his own cum.

He leaned forward and lapped it up, uninterested in the taste, but the act of submission intrigued him and he found it pleasing in the moment.

And it clearly had pleased his partner, as he heard a strange crackling in his ear as he felt his nose nudge against his neck. It took a few moments to realize the noise was a broken purr, probably sounding like that from a lack of use.

They stayed like that for a few more moments before Zana'a pulled out and took a short step back, footing a little unsure but still standing. He cleared his throat, suddenly looking surprisingly bashful and trying to seem casual and dismissive of what just happened. Emet turned around to face him and cocked his head to the side.

"Is the great warrior satisfied now?"

He was met with that familiar silence, then a brief incline of his head.

"It was...good." he acknowledged, locking eyes again and drawing himself up to a confident position. He had been struggling to find where he felt he was in this entire thing, but now there was something different about him.

Emet-Selch returned with a sound of agreement and stepped closer as he began to pull his clothes back on, sorting himself out and smoothing his hair down. He had no reason to, aside from a whim, to reach out and gently stroke the scholar's face experimentally to see his reaction.

He was rewarded with that familiar scowl and he found himself enjoying it a lot more.

"Then perhaps we should do this more, my dear."

Zana'a tensed at being called that and the corner of his lips tugged up into a weird expression that he couldn't find a word to describe. He grunted in acknowledgement, and seeming agreement as he began to clothe himself as well. This had taken far longer than anticipated, and he was clearly going to be very late getting back to the Crystarium.

Emet found himself hoping that it had been worth it to him.

As Zana'a turned away, as bad with goodbyes as always, he stopped for a moment. He didn't look at Emet when he made a sudden request.

"Call me that again."

With a jokingly flippant wave to bid farewell, Emet replied.

"I will see you soon...my dear~"


	2. Tempering

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (人´∀`) ♫ Something short and kinda dumb, but whatever

Their bodies were a tangled mess, and Zana'a felt like his body was on fire. His mind was racing, there were so many thoughts, so many questions. But the only thing he could focus on was the man beneath him. He watched Emet-Selch squirm at his touch, gasp when he gripped him through his clothes and gave a slow stroke. The stone floor of the chrysalis was rough and uncomfortable, painful to kneel on.

It was dim.

Only the purple hues cast by the vast Zodiark statue offered any light and guidance for his hands. Zana'a whined, starting to grind against Emet-Selch. His robes were denying him the access he wanted so badly, hard and left wanting. The Ascian noted his increasing desperation and let out a hoarse laugh, reaching out to run the claws of his glove along his jawline.  
  


"By his will..." he murmured, golden eyes alight with a strange delight.  
  


Zana'a was panting now, mouth open and eyes clouded over. He felt a pulse inside him, a burning, a want, a need, a compulsion.  
  


"By his will." he repeated, mouth dry.

To reward him, Emet-Selch rolled over onto his hands and knees, glancing back with a smirk, a silent permission being granted.

Zana'a didn't hesitate, taking the chance to eagerly push up his robes, to run his hands all along his thighs and squeeze softly. Having direct access was doing wonders for the both of them. The miqo'te wasn't being patient anymore, he wasn't interested in foreplay. The violet light was filling him with a primal sort of desire. He felt like he was drowning on dry land.

He didn't strip him down, or himself either, simply pulling out his aching cock to rub against Emet-Selch's ass. He wouldn't enter him dry; even in his desperation, he wasn't a monster. But the prep was quick, sloppy, fingering him roughly and pulling out a good couple moans. Despite his aggression, he usually was very careful when it came to foreplay and stretching him for penetration. But this rough attitude was driving Emet-Selch insane, drooling and clenching his hands into fists.

And when he was inside him, he cried out as he hadn't before. There was no waiting, his hips were moving and thrusting in as deep as he could. Zana'a's hands gripped his hips tightly, pulling him back to meet his body with every thrust, hard and fast. There was a raw, feral need in him and he didn't say a word. The only sounds between them were the moans and grunts of pleasure, but the lack of words were louder than anything.

It didn't take long for Zana'a to start to lose control, leaning over him and hissing. His tail was vibrating and was drooling much like Emet at this point.

As Zana'a fucked him roughly, Emet balanced himself precariously on one hand, letting the other venture down to grip himself and start stroking, attempting to match the reckless pace Zana'a had set up. His stomach was twisting into a knot of arousal and he knew neither would last much longer. He wanted this, he needed it.

"Fuck--!" Zana'a finally said, crying out as he pushed himself as deep as possible without warning.

Emet-Selch almost buckled under the experience of being filled, all while being so shamelessly exposed in such a personal place. He took a few more strokes to bring himself over, dripping over his hand messily onto the ground. He continued to pump his hand until he milked every last drop out of him, and twitched in pleasure when he felt Zana'a pull out.

A wetness dripped down his thigh, cum leaking from inside him. He breathed hard, slumping forward onto the ground.

Zana'a was silent as he pulled himself together, stumbling to his feet and buckling his belt once more. Emet-Selch joined him after taking a few moments to catch his breath and thoughts. There was nothing to be said.

Emet took his hand and gave it a squeeze, an almost relieved smile on his face.

Zana'a looked to the statue.

Zodiark watched silently.


	3. Dream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a very good dream. Presented without context.

Everything felt vague and fuzzy and it was hard for him to focus. It was like trying to look through the mist with a telescope; something was out there, but no matter how hard you searched you could never find a shape. The world was ill-defined and washed out, but felt soft to lay in. It was like the coziest comforter, the cushiest pillow, a snuggly place to lay down.

Zana'a lounged in what he supposed was the void, staring off into space at what he'd assumed to be a ceiling. It was above him, so that is what it must have been. Within moments it felt like days had gone by. He didn't care though, he was comfortable and felt oddly secure.

There was a scent in the air that was foreign but felt familiar. It had a nostalgic feeling. Comforting, like coming home. He purred contentedly, settling down a little more and enjoying himself. This was the most relaxed he had felt in a good long while.

  
  
  


He closed his eyes and didn't open them, even as he felt whatever he was laying on shift, a new weight being put upon it. Someone had joined him in this strange place, but he didn't feel as against the idea as he would have been usually. For once he found himself welcoming the company. As they seemingly settled in, he opened one eye to glance over.

Of course it was Emet-Selch. There was no one else who shared his bed with him, and nobody he would allow. This was the only person he had ever had eyes for, and feeling as secure and comfortable right now, alongside having him here, made him satisfied. 

Something was off though and he couldn't quite put his finger on it. Both eyes were open now and he rolled onto his side to look him over. His eyes were the same, piercing gold, like they could see right through him. Perhaps he looked a little younger, less worn, more well rested? That could be it. He touched his face and trailed his fingers along his skin, down his neck and shoulders. He wasn't wearing anything, which wasn't too much of a surprise and didn't warrant much of a reaction. Being nude while cuddling close wasn't particularly new.

  
  
  


Zana'a's face scrunched up, trying to figure out what felt so different. There was a different aura about him, a different presence, but still so familiar.

His hair. That must have been it. It had been drained of colour, now fully white. It was bizarre, but he found it strangely handsome. He felt like he had seen him like this before, but couldn't remember where. Maybe he had just imagined it at one point, a stray thought wondering what he might look like like this? No matter how hard he wracked his brain, there wasn't a single point he could pin down. But he was truly entrancing and had an ethereal quality to him.

His hand trailed back to the man's face and cupped his cheek, staring at him. Seconds passed, minutes passed, hours and days and weeks. A large hand covered his and an uncharacteristically sweet smile crossed Emet-Selch's lips. He had never seen that expression before. Of course he had smiled for him often, but this time it carried a different weight. As if all the weary years were gone, light and airy, and full of adoration. Zana'a almost flinched as he leaned into give him a kiss.

It was a whisper against his mouth, barely a kiss at all, but when he felt his mouth his stomach twisted with a deep, intense longing that he had never felt before. When Emet pulled away, he followed after and found himself enveloped in a warm embrace. 

  
  


"Coeus..." he heard him whisper and he shook his head, ears folding back a little.

  
  


"...That isn't my name." Zana'a replied flatly, a little hurt at being called the wrong name. Hearing it gave him an uneasy feeling.

  
  


"Coeus." he repeated, kissing the top of his head and stroking his back soothingly.

  
  


Emet-Selch wasn't listening and Zana'a felt dizzy. He kept saying the name, over and over again, like a prayer he desperately wanted answered. His mind was swimming with it.

  
  


"Hades, you don't need to keep saying my name...I'm right here."

  
  


The words came from his mouth, unbidden and foreign. Emet-Selch smiled against him and held him tighter. He felt like a heater, radiating warmth. Zana'a's heart was racing as he heard the name again.

_ Coeus. Coeus. Coeus. _

"Hades..." 

  
  


He'd never heard it before, these names didn’t belong to either of them. But his mouth wasn't listening to his brain and he closed his eyes as they shared a slow, deep and passionate kiss. He tangled his finger in Emet-Selch's - Hades's - hair and found himself pulled close, hips pressed together. The usual sense of urgency wasn't there, there was no destination planned by the way they kissed. It was simply slow, sensual, and for once in his life, Zana'a had given up the lead. He let himself be tasted, felt Hades' tongue rub carefully against his. His lips felt soft, and every movement was deliberate. If there was one familiar sign, it was his uncanny ability to know exactly how to make him feel good. 

  
  


Zana'a wasn't a submissive man by any stretch of the word. He hated to give up control, he was completely uninterested in being anything but on top and in charge. It was partly pride and arrogance, and another part insecurity. It was just who he was, and that was an unflexible part of him. Yet something in his soul was demanding he yield to this man for once. A ghost of a memory of a desire. He recoiled at first, repulsed by the thought ,but as the kiss carried on, a small voice in the back of his mind was begging him.

  
  


It sounded like birdsong was ringing in his ears and he began to submit to the pleasure of giving up the lead. Once wouldn't hurt. Just once. He wasn't sure he'd like it, but he wouldn't call himself a coward.

  
  
  


Just once. 

  
  
  


There was an ache stirring in him and he found himself lightly rubbing himself against his boyfriend - his husband. Their bodies fit together perfectly and a sigh of pleasure escaped his lips. 

And then they weren't the only ones there. Another pressure on the other side of him and he tensed up, feeling another pair of arms encircle him. He glanced over his shoulder, more than a little alarmed, only to be met with a smouldering gaze. That was Emet-Selch. That was his familiar hair, face, expression and air. There was that annoying smirk that drove him up the wall, the defiant look that made him want to bend him over and break the headboard from how hard he wanted to take him.

  
  


That one single look brought about a massive conflict. Between the soft touches and gentle kisses, and the nasty grin on this man's face, he wasn't sure what to do. It wasn't registering to him how ridiculous the entire situation was, having two of them here. He wasn't even using the right name for one of them, but his brain was getting muddled and he couldn't focus on minor details like that. He rolled over to face his boyfriend, hissing under his breath as he took the initiative with kissing him, fangs catching his lower lip and pulling a little rougher than he needed to. He received a moan in return.

The other wasn't discouraged or bothered by the change in position, enjoying the easier access, slowly rubbing himself against Zana'a's thighs, against his ass, giving soft noises of pleasure. This was making Zana'a squirm, and he didn't realize how hard he'd gotten. Emet-Selch grinned and reached down to take him in hand, squeezing before giving a slow stroke.

  
  


"How shameless... playing around with a memory you can't even recall..." he whispered, tilting his head up to encourage Zana'a to leave little bites.

  
  


He obliged, and lathed his tongue across the bites he left, his taste far more vivid than usual. Zana'a couldn't help but gasp in pleasure as Hades leaned in to start kissing at his own neck. He didn't leave bites, marks or even attempt to do so; they were just soft, tender kisses. Hands reached around from behind to stroke at his collarbone which only got him more excited. Soon he felt the man's cock pushing between his thighs and a slow thrusting begin. 

  
  


Emet-Selch frowned, not enjoying how he seemed to be getting shown up by the other. He started to move his own hips to feel their erections slide against each other, and began to stroke them together.

  
  


"My naughty lover..." 

  
  


Zana'a groaned, overstimulated but somehow managing to hold on. His ears were perked up and he was squirming, relishing the overwhelming heat and the pressure of being pinned between the two men.

  
  


"Do you want to be inside me? Do you want to feel me?" Emet teased, withdrawing his hand to take Zana'a's wrist and guiding it to his hip, to his ass, encouraging him to squeeze and feel him up.

  
  


He couldn't do much besides nod, painfully distracted by the sensual grinding of Hades, little beads of precum starting to make his thighs slick.

  
  


This place was strange. When he moved his hand to tease at Emet's entrance, he was already slick and he wondered how desperate he must have been for this to prepare himself beforehand. Of course, he had joined them, already hard and interested in being fucked. He let out a lewd and shameless moan, screwing up his face into the embarrassing and most definitely sarcastic expression Zana'a found agitating.

  
  


He couldn't manage any more teasing words, though, as the miqo'te's fingers slipped into him, feeling him as deep as he could while reaching around him. He was definitely more than ready to take him. And he wanted it so badly. He never knew he could feel such an intense desire. A haze was taking over.

As if to match him, he started feeling fingers against himself in turn, coated in a liquid that seemed to be warming up as it touched his skin. He grimaced, uncertain of whether he made the right choice accepting this. But doubts washed away as he heard that birdsong in his ears, a strange reassurance that he didn't understand, and felt fingers dip inside him.

He gave an undignified hiss and squirmed a little at the foreign sensation of being penetrated. It was completely new and he had never experienced it before, even when playing with himself. It wasn't something he liked, but somehow this man was making it seem appealing. Stretching him as he had done to Emet so many times, but going far slower than he ever did. Scissoring his fingers and brushing against his insides so carefully. It was almost like a massage that sent sparks through his entire body. This was strange, he didn't know what to do with it.

He didn't think it could feel this good. And he found himself missing the sensation when the digits were finally removed from him. He felt empty.

  
  
  


It was like someone else was in his body, craving to be filled.

  
  


Emet-Selch on the other hand had rolled over to rub his ass against the man, spreading himself playfully and looking over his shoulder.

"Come on. Fuck me, you beast."

  
  


The contrast of soft and naughty was exciting and his tail vibrated. He grabbed the man's hips and pulled him closer, not hesitating anymore. He thrust in, deeper than usual at the start. He needed him, he needed his body. All this teasing, warmth and these touches were driving him insane. And in return, as he penetrated Emet, Hades began to press into him as well.

  
  


As opposed to Zana'a, thrusting aggressively into Emet, he was slow and careful. It was a little difficult for him with his partner's hips so unsteady, but he used one hand to temporarily still him so he could enter. Zana'a winced and gave a strange mewl, entire body trembling. He felt so full, stretched wide and it almost hurt. It wasn't like he wasn't prepared. That wasn't the problem. It was so foreign, his body wasn't sure how to respond other than to send a potential warning signal.

  
  


Still, he was gentle, as if he knew.

  
  


He didn't need to say a word, pushing deeper and deeper into him until he was hilted completely. He was letting Zana'a get used to the feeling and grinded a little, hips pushing him forward so he could continue to thrust into Emet. 

Zana'a was moving slower now, much to the agitation of the ascian who began to help him by moving back against him, not hesitating to complain.

  
  


"Don't stop because you've got someone taking you as well. Hurry up."

  
  


Zana'a was drooling and covered in sweat, looking like an absolute mess. The last time he had felt this way was when he had last been in heat, uncontrollably horny and desperate. Finally, he felt Hades start to move inside him and he let out another cry, though this time with growing pleasure. It was so strange, but the sound of birds got louder and louder, filling him with a thrill of excitement. It was enough to get him moving properly again.

  
  


Laying together like this was more than a little awkward, their paces not matching with each other at all. It left Zana'a with a strange feeling and he felt Hades' hands exploring his thighs, his hips, his entire body. He imitated the gesture with Emet, before stopping to reach around and start stroking him, pace unsteady and sloppy. There was nothing graceful about this on his end as he was having trouble holding it together.

The world was blending together, his thoughts were a jumbled mess. He was so full, he was so warm, he loved being buried in this tight heat. There was no way he could hold on like this.

  
  


Then Hades leaned in to begin whispering into his ear.

  
  


"We'll always be together, Coeus. Even if you never remember our lives again."

Those words sent him over and his hips stuttered, thrusting into Emet frantically, making him gasp in pleasure and rock his hips back to meet every thrust. It wasn't long before they both finished, Emet-Selch's cum spilling messily over Zana'a's hands and dripping down onto whatever the world was. Zana'a felt him twitching and gasping and quickly joined him, pumping him full of his cum and burying his face against the back of his neck, giving a drawn out whine. A strange noise from him.

  
  


From behind, Hades moved a little more urgently and soon followed after; he obviously enjoyed taking it slow and lasted quite a bit longer than the other two, but seemed to know something the other two didn't. They were short on time.

Zana'a almost felt like he would cum again just from the sensation of being filled up, a warmth spreading inside him, his body alight with pleasure. Hades rode out his orgasm with shallow thrusts before pushing his body tight against him, not pulling out. The three remained like this, and the world was melting. Zana'a closed his eyes and it felt like he was losing consciousness, falling into a deep, deep sleep. Soon they had both moved to embrace him and he felt secure, safe, and squirmed a little when Hades withdraw, relishing the wet feeling of his seed dripping down his thighs.

But it was alright. This was alright.

And then he opened his eyes to a dark room.

There was the ceiling, clear as can be. He glanced to the side. The nightstand, the window, the familiar portrait of his chocobo. Then to the other side. Emet-Selch was fast asleep, one arm draped over Zana'a and holding him gently. Zana'a gently removed his arm to sit up, taking extra care to not wake him up. He felt wet and lifted the blanket, grimacing as he realized he had just had the strangest wet dream of his life. It had felt so real.

_ Coeus. Coeus. Coeus. _

What was that name? Why did Emet-Selch look like that?

He moved to get up as stealthily as he could, but found his wrist caught in the grip of a sleepy Emet who gave a grumble of disapproval. He never cared about him being messy or covered in cum, even after a particularly heated session. At night, he just wanted to be close to an almost pushy degree. He couldn't figure out why this flippant, obnoxious ascian seemed so desperate for company at night but he couldn't help but oblige. He was still tired, and while he felt particularly gross crawling back into bed with the mess coating his thighs, Emet-Selch stroking his hair, touching his ears gently and keeping him warm made it seem alright.

  
  


It was familiar, like a dream that wasn't ending. He could still hear the name ringing in his ears.


	4. [SFW] Awake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Going to the tempest to be consumed by the light with dignity doesn't seem all that bad.
> 
> This is short and also SFW

"Just a little longer. It is a lovely night, hmm?" Emet-Selch commented, nudging his chin against Zana'a's head and humming a little, "How thrilling is it to be within my amazing city? I'm sure you of all people would be able to appreciate its beauty~"

They were curled up in the bed together, Zana'a's tail wrapped around Emet's leg and face resting against his shoulder. He looked more exhausted than he ever had before, ears drooping and only giving a soft noise of acknowledgement. 

In response, he got a firmer nudge, Emet's voice sounding a little more urgent for whatever reason Zana'a couldn't quite get a read on. Something definitely felt different right now between them, though.

"Please try and stay awake."

The miqo'te grumbled, shaking his head and giving his usual annoyed look up at Emet.

"Whatever more you want to do, Emet-Selch, it can wait until tomorrow. My body is sore, and I'm sure your old brittle bones are breaking." he commented, still somehow finding it in his exhausted and crumbling self to make a jab.

There was a strange look in his partner's eyes as they made eye contact. Zana'a wasn't sure what it was, and any more follow-up to what he might have wanted to say died. 

"Stay awake."

With a sigh, Zana'a propped himself up as best he could and leaned in to brush his lips against the other's, a whisper of affection. There didn't need to be any words anymore, and Zana'a didn't know if he was particularly capable of carrying on a real conversation at the moment. He was content to listen to Emet, to feel his aether, to find himself tangled together with him physically and emotionally, deeper than he had been before.

He didn't need anything besides Emet-Selch.

"Just a little longer, my dearest."

He couldn't stay awake any longer. Zana'a had slowly drifted off, unable to fight his body's urges. The exhaustion from everything he had been through had finally caught up and there was no amount of pleading and begging and prodding that the ascian could do that would prevent this inevitability. 

With a mournful sigh, Emet-Selch pulled him close, burying his face in his hair and closed his eyes. Feeling everything he was with his whole being, memorizing every last bit of him. As he slept, he whispered into his ear. Of all the beautiful birds he had made for him, of all the songs he had them sing for him, of Amaurot, of each other.

This was his last chance to say everything.


	5. Convocation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm just doing whatever I want w Amaurotine anatomy headcanons sorry ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ Also I'm here to provide Good Spouse Hades even if idk how to write

Coeus gave a small whimper and squirmed a little in his chair. He wasn't being as subtle as he hoped he was, shifting in his seat and barely able to keep writing. He couldn't focus, he couldn't concentrate. Whenever he started a line, it abruptly stopped so he could shift his hips a little and put his hand over his mouth to stifle a low whine.

Hades wasn't helping.

He was having a hard time resisting teasing him and playing with him a little right now. There was a certain thrill being here, under the desk and under his robes, running his mouth up along his thighs and giving little nips. He was going painfully slow and sighing happily as he rubbed his cheek against the man's leg. He was so warm, and so cute when he made those noises.

He loved it so much and let it be known by very lightly running his mouth along his member. This received a sharp gasp, prompting Coeus to bite down on his lip.

His face was burning bright red and he lifted his papers to hide his face as best he could, as if examining some particularly fine print. A bold-faced lie, this being something he was quite literally writing himself. He was more than a little ruffled, but couldn't help but move to wrap his legs around Hades to convince him to move a little closer.

Hades obliged, brushing his fingertips up along his leg, leaving a trail of goosebumps. It wasn't like him to rush this sort of thing, he relished making Coeus feel good and loved hearing his sounds of pleasure. Here he was stifling them as much as possible which disappointed him but gave him a need to draw it out longer so he could at least hear a few whimpers.

Almost lazily, he let his tongue dance across him, relishing in how sweet he tasted and how slick his cock was. Coeus gave a little squirm in response to the touch and it twitched, making Hades feel a rush of excitement. Of course he couldn't help feeling a little intoxicated from it all, the taste was completely irresistible and sparked a fire in him that was impossible to ignore. Almost playfully in return it nudged him to encourage another lick, and Hades could picture that embarrassed smile on Coeus's face he always got when he did something like that.

This was more than a little undignified than usual, Hades had to admit. They had only just started experimenting a little more, testing the waters outside of their house. First it had been out of the bedroom, against his desk, papers crumpled carelessly beneath him. The house became a place to explore and play in more than one way.

And then one day he suggested this. He insisted he'd be able to keep it together, nobody would ever know. He highly doubted Coeus would be able to maintain a straight face, but when he asked so sweetly and earnestly he couldn't resist. Especially knowing the reward would be getting to not only taste him but make him happy.

As Hades squeezed the base to coax more of his length out from him, Coeus shuddered and spread his legs, slippery ropes of precum dripping down in excess. He wasn't holding back very well today, probably due to the added excitement of being in public. Usually he wasn't this wet until later. Hades didn't particularly mind and set about licking up every last drop, tongue slow and heavy.

"Please..."

A soft whimper came from above the desk, Coeus tapping his finger against it and shifting a little in his seat. His dick squirmed to try and encourage his partner to give him more and Hades bit his lip to prevent himself from laughing and ruining the whole thing. He pressed a kiss to the tip and then a slow suck, mouth lingering. Another squirm, trying to press into his mouth. Hades denied him and pulled back, tutting a little.

His words were barely a whisper, only audible to the two of them.

"We aren't in any rush, Coeus."

Hades took his sweet time, working his way to the base and playfully tonguing at the edge of his slit, dipping down as far as he could. Coeus was fully erect by now so he couldn't go too far in but he seemed determined to explore every inch of him.

Coeus was truly starting to grow impatient, though, starting to purposefully rub against his face to get it sticky and coated with precum. It was inevitable he'd be a mess by the end of this.

He finally took the hint with a small chuckle, licking his way back up, finding his partner's cock playing with his tongue in turn and rubbing eagerly against his lips. After what felt like an eternity to Coeus, he finally parted his lips to allow him access which he immediately sought, though not pushing in all the way. He liked it when Hades did it himself. But he needed something, anything. His husband was more than willing to provide.

He was growing almost drunk on the taste, thoughts spinning as he sunk his way to the base. He could feel everything leaking out from the corner of his mouth, down his chin and onto his robes. When he hit the base, Coeus gave a long, drawn out groan that he was obviously trying to stifle with his arm with how muffled it was.

Up top, Coeus pulled his hood down over his face, whimpering and moving further up in the chair. He wanted to be closer.

He was now shifting his hips a little, almost shallow little thrusts into his mouth. It was painfully obvious how much he was enjoying it, with how he wriggled in Hades' mouth. It was strange, like a heated kiss, tangled up while giving him oral. His fingers soon found his slit again and were playing with it, rubbing the edges and lightly dancing across the base of his cock. He felt the soft ridges along the length with his tongue and hummed quietly, the vibrations earning what could only be described as a startled chirp.

Coeus was starting to tap his foot a little, trilling to himself as he couldn't help himself anymore. His dick was edging towards the back of his mouth and the thrusts started to pick up. Still gentle, stilted, but far more needy than before. It was getting difficult for him to keep himself composed and they were brushing against a risk of being caught with how vocal he was starting to get.

But perhaps a little more sound wouldn't hurt, though. Just a little. Hades dipped his finger into the dribble of precum down his chin,coating his fingers thoroughly before running his digits against the man's entrance. He waited for a response before working them inside, only proceeding when Coeus started to thrust a little harder, bumping himself against Hades' nose now.

It was only light fingering, nothing that would end up leading somewhere else. An additional pleasure as he sucked him off, swallowing down everything and feeling the excitement growing inside him at every delighted twitch he got from Coeus. Every brush of his fingers brought a new wave of pleasure and it wasn't long before Hades heard the heavy thump of Coeus’s head flopping down onto the desk above him, followed by a whimper.

His movement was getting unsteady and his dick was twitching in his mouth a little more, a hand now moving down to stroke Hades' head to encourage him. He was at his limit and wouldn't wait any longer, and gave a silent warning with his touches.

Hades pushed himself all the way down to the base to swallow him down, feeling a few final twitches before he finished, filling his mouth and throat with a hot release. It was an absolutely excessive amount of cum that he delighted in, drinking down what he could before having to pull his mouth, letting some get on his face and down his front. It pooled on the floor, slick and heated. This was an unbelievable mess, as always, but this was starting to get Hades even more excited and thinking about how he suddenly was very ready to get out from under this desk and go home together.

Coeus was almost crying from holding back the sounds he usually made, toes curled and legs trembling as he felt himself unload his seed across his husband and the floor, every twitch and spurt of cum feeling like a wave going through his body. It felt like it would never end, leaving what might as well have been called a puddle.

When he was completely spent and withdrawing, he felt sticky kisses trailing up his leg and gave an embarrassed smile that nobody could see. He wrapped his legs around Hades to pull him close against him, shameless in his haze of pleasure.

It was silent and they were content.

Then there was a sharp rapping at the desk they occupied and Coeus sat up quickly, just about kneeing Hades in the chin. He felt like a hole had opened up in his stomach as he realized it was Elidibus standing there, and even from behind his mask it was easy to read the level of agitation he had.

There was a pregnant pause, a judgemental air coming off of Elidibus.

"Where is Emet-Selch?" he inquired, voice steady but it was clear he didn't want to be in this conversation for any longer than needed.

Coeus's brain was racing and his face was growing more and more red, attempting to look occupied with the slightly crumpled paper he had been working on. It was a large amount of nonsense written over and over again to look busy and he desperately hoped Elidibus wasn't able to see.

His mind was racing to come up with something, anything.

"Sick! Sick. He wasn't feeling very well, so he stayed home!"

"I see."

It was an uncomfortable reply and Coeus was feeling his neck prickle with fear, wondering if he really had been too loud. Elidibus stared at him a little longer, expression completely unreadable.

Whatever little conversation that had happened fell flat and the silence was weighty and Coeus gave a nervous laugh.

"I'll be sure to tell him you were looking for him!" he offered to placate the impatient emissary, and while he still seemed disgruntled about something that he hoped was literally anything else, gave a short nod.

As he turned on his heels and exited, he let out a distressed squawk and felt Hades shaking from trying to stifle laughter. Coeus pushed his chair out to look underneath and see Hades coated with cum and flushed red and grinning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Elidibus voice* Am I a joke to you?


	6. [SFW] Snow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A very, very VERYYYY short drabble in preparation for the next chapter. :3c But also pretty much a brief summary of their dynamic
> 
> This is SFW

Zana'a was reminiscent of a yowling, angry cat, with the way he was thrashing about in the drift. His ears were flat back and his face was flushed deep red from both the cold and embarrassment.  
Emet-Selch just stood next to him, eyebrows raised and expression neutral as he watched his boyfriend struggle, waist-deep in snow.

"Hmm... It is pretty deep out here, isn't it?"

Zana'a gave an indignant hiss, temper flaring.

"Pretty deep? Pretty deep?!" he spat, puffing as he continued to try to haul himself out of the snow, "Help me get out of here before I strangle you, Ascian!"

Emet-Selch sighed heavily, crouching down to look at him and resting his chin on the back of one of his hands.

"Ahh, threatening me with a good time as always. I suppose I have no choice then."

Still, he waited a few moments, watching the poor man struggle


	7. Heat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eh? Ehh?

Zana'a growled as he pushed his face into his pillows and curled up under his blankets. He had no idea why his body was doing this and he hated every second of it.

The day started out normal, completely fine. Nothing was off, he was getting dressed and ready, when he felt a dripping heat suddenly running down his spine. He paused, face scrunching up and shifting from foot to foot. What the actual hell was that? Then the warmth started to spread, and his breath hitched. Slowly he found himself growing more and more aroused, with no prompting or explanation and he immediately felt like he was in hell.

No matter how hard he willed it to go away, even going as far to douse himself in cold water in the shower, nothing was changing. He wasn't going to be able to fix this, so he crawled back into bed, resigned to suffer.

He found himself idly stroking himself, hissing softly at the sensation. His body was aching, and touching himself wasn't providing as much relief as he had hoped or expected. It needed something more, and he found himself cursing his bastard of a boyfriend for not immediately being here. Gods knew where he had wandered off to, or what bullshit he was starting without his knowledge. 

Staring at the ceiling as he attempted to jack himself off, he found himself mouthing Emet's name, then flat out saying it out loud. He shut his eyes, trying to imagine what he could be doing while feeling unsatisfied with his own ministrations.

Then the door opened and he shot up in bed, ears straight up and instinctively throwing a pillow at whoever had walked in.

"STOP!" he yelped, turning red and looking painfully embarrassed.

Emet-Selch stood there, a blank look on his face after being hit with a pillow. Zana'a stared back, slowly lowering his hand and glancing away and clearing his throat as if he hadn't just completely panicked, making himself look like an absolute fool. He distracted himself by smoothing out the fluffed up white fur on his tail.

"...Right. So, are you going to tell me what warranted this reaction?" the Ascian said cooly, picking up the pillow and walking over to place it back on the bed. 

He quirked an eyebrow, glancing his partner over a few times, then looking him in the eyes.

"I didn't take you for the shy type. Or is this your first time touching yourself and you're worried you'll embarrass yourself?"

Zana'a snorted, ears flicking. Emet smirked and leaned in to tug one playfully, which caused Zana'a to half-heartedly swat at his hands, not really committed to getting him to stop. The simple act of being touched, even like this, was pleasing in the moment.

"Hm, hm, hm~ Come now, don't give me that." he teased, leaning in to press a kiss to his cheek, "I find your inexperience and ineptitude quite endearing, hero."

"Look, if you and your nosy self really needs to know, I'm..." he trailed off, having a difficult time saying it. It was almost surreal admitting to something like this, "...in heat."

The last two words came out almost like a whisper. Of course Emet caught this, judging by the lopsided smile that graced his face and how he brushed his lips against his jawline almost eagerly. It almost felt like his hearing was specially tuned to hear every little embarrassing detail about Zana'a.

But of course he couldn't resist the temptation to push him further.

"Oh? What was that? I didn't hear you~" he crooned, continuing to kiss up his jaw, then leaned up to nip at his ear which earned him a soft moan.

Zana'a nudged him with his head, giving him a grumpy look while trying to hide the fact that he was trembling from the contact.

"I know damn well you heard me, old man." he insisted, cheeks a deep red.

Emet-Selch laughed and ran a gloved hand across his collarbone which made Zana'a's resolve buckle rather quickly. He brushed his fingers over the markings on one side and whispered quietly.

"This 'old man' needs you to repeat it."

"I'm in heat!" Zana'a bordered on shouting that response, starting to get more and more worked up. The ache was getting worse and he hadn't even noticed his hand moving along Emet's thigh, squeezing harder than he usually would.

Emet withdrew his hand, earning him a particularly frustrated look and Zana'a let out an undignified whine. This got a laugh out of Emet-Selch as he slowly started to disrobe, taking far longer than Zana'a had any patience for. Still, he felt grateful for Emet's immediate willingness, and what he was reading to be eagerness, to tend to his needs.

As he stripped down, Zana'a glanced down at himself; still as hard as he was at the start, throbbing with a deep, primal need to be buried in this man and go until they lost the ability to walk. He felt like the world would end if he didn't feel his touch again soon.

"...I've never had it happen before." he admitted, looking back up to Emet and feeling his stomach twist as he saw his bare chest. A completely over the top reaction for something he saw regularly, but right now every inch of his body was a temptation he could barely hold back from seizing for himself. He longed to touch, to taste, to hold.

Emet kicked off his boots, but kept his pants on which frustrated Zana'a. He wanted access to him now, but wasn't going to push it. He could have patience, he had to have patience. As aggressive as he was, he wasn't one to deny the pace Emet seemed to be requesting. He was finally joined on the bed, Emet laying beside him and slowly tracing patterns up Zana'a's side and back to his collarbone and neck.

"How delightful..." he whispered, and Zana'a caught him in a sudden kiss, insistent on finally taking charge.

Emet wasn't complaining, and Zana'a was pleased to have the passionate kiss reciprocated. He couldn't help but bite at his lip and pull gently, before pressing further, tongue slipping into the other's mouth. He wasn't as careful as he usually would be with his actions, his mind having absolutely no say in any of the matters at hand. His teeth bumped clumsily up against Emet's, making him flinch, but he didn't stop.

A broken purr started up inside him, rumbling in his chest as he felt his boyfriend's hand coasting up his side, to the back of his neck to hold him in place. This only spurred him on and he nipped at his mouth again. He was desperate and getting lost in the moment, his lips making him feel drunk and dizzy. When he pulled away, a trail of drool following after, his mouth still half open and eyes hazy with arousal.

Emet took the moment to screw his face up in a over-the-top lewd expression before returning to his usual cocky smile, always ready to tease and poke fun for his own pleasure and satisfaction. Zana'a huffed and leaned in to give one more quick kiss.

"You know I hate when you make those stupid faces..." he grumbled, but his body language betrayed his words, ears perked up and the tip of his tail vibrating.

"And that makes me love doing them even more~"

Zana'a took this moment to lean in and trace his teeth up Emet's neck, and he tilted his head up in response to offer more room for his mouth. He left gentle little nibbles, a stark contrast to how deep he usually sunk his teeth in, occasionally stopping to suck softly at the skin. Marking him was impossible to resist, he loved the thought of him carrying them like a badge, a sign that he was his, a reminder of his feelings.

There was always a sense of satisfaction when he noticed Emet absentmindedly touching them through the collar of his top. He always wondered what was crossing his mind when he did that. Was he thinking of him? Were they simply aching? He purred at the thought of being on his mind and pressed small kisses up to his ear. Zana'a nuzzled him, an intrigued look on now on Emet's face at the uncharacteristically soft intimacy. This was replaced quickly with a smirk, accompanied by a groan, as Zana'a couldn't fight against the temptation to bite his earlobe a little harder, a response to the earlier bite he had received. Then, another rough bite, this time to his neck. Not enough to break skin but an adequate enough reminder to Emet-Selch of how keen his teeth were.

"Go on...bite me again, you savage~" goaded Emet, always a glutton for punishment in bed and trying to find new ways to get a rise out of him. 

Something about his defiance and attitude just made Zana'a even more turned on, hissing softly. He obliged, but the bite had returned to being as soft as before. Emet-Selch sighed, squirming a little and clearly feeling like he was the one being teased now.

"You are being particularly difficult today, aren't you?" he commented, but there was no real annoyance. He simply was starting to get particularly needy now as well.

Zana'a delighted in his reactions, turning his head to give another kiss before allowing his hand to trail lower, taking the time to trace lines across his skin and stopping just at the waist of his pants. He teased his fingers into the waistband and flicked his tail playfully. He was particularly pleased with himself, fighting the urge to just mount him and fuck him like an animal as well as he was. He knew it was only going to be all the more satisfying, getting his partner to the point of begging for it with his actions.

He wanted it, he needed it. He wanted to see Emet as desperate for him as he was in return.

"Do you want it~?" Zana'a whispered, taking the time to give him a few more kisses and brushing their noses together.

Emet shuddered, finding him being so quiet and slow particularly erotic. He loved being bent over and treated roughly by the warrior, sometimes like a simple plaything. But this had a different edge, since it was clearly masking a barely restrained bestial need to take him. That level of control made him want to break it all the more.

Emet-Selch returned every one of his kisses, mischief glinting in his eyes as he moved one of his hands to Zana'a's wrist to slowly guide him over the front of his pants so he could feel him up. He wasn't giving him the satisfaction of touching him directly yet, refusing to beg, which made the miqo'te a little annoyed but he wasn't complaining at finally getting a chance to stroke him slowly, even if it was through his clothes. Hearing the Ascian moan softly made his skin prickle with excitement and he gave a soft squeeze, wanting to pull a louder sound out of him. He was rewarded for his efforts and received a smouldering look.

Zana'a loved his eyes. He wasn't very good at articulating things like that, unable to come out and directly say it, but he loved their intensity. A pale gold, that always caught his full attention. Eyes that saw right through him, as if he knew more about himself than he did.

"I hope you know..." Zana'a whispered hoarsely, "I ..."

His voice trailed off and he looked away, biting his lip and looking strangely embarrassed. The words he wanted to say were still so difficult, even as intimate as they were together. He was sure Emet-Selch knew, even without him saying it. He hoped. 

"Mmm~?" 

Of course he'd want him to say it. He shook his head, distracting him with another firm squeeze, relishing how hard he was getting under his touch. Zana'a gave a deep, needy whine, now working his mouth down his neck, and lower down his body. He once again paused to leave a few marks here and there, and lingered at his chest. He ran his tongue across a nipple, glancing up at him to watch his reaction. It was a positive one, Emet squirming at the sight and bucking his hips a little in approval.

"Get a move on, darling..." His breathing was starting to hitch, running his free hand through Zana'a's hair, and the one on his wrist guiding him to move a little faster.

He resisted the change of pace, keeping his hand steady and smirking as he bit lightly on his nipple. Emet bucked his hips again, giving him a crooked smile in return.

"You really are nasty sometimes."

Zana'a couldn't help but laugh hearing that coming from someone like him, rough tongue lapping at him before sucking hard, then moving lower again. He shifted himself down along the bed, withdrawing his hand from Emet's erection which got a noise of complaint.

"As if you have any right to talk, you uppity bastard." he retorted playfully, moving to sit upright on his knees between his legs.

He carefully drew his hands up his legs, and slowly moved them to his inner thighs, pushing them apart but not touching him directly anymore. Just barely ghosting his hands near his crotch, denying him. Of course, this was torture for him as well. He was growing more and more hungry for his body and he felt the painful throb of his erection demanding more. He did his best to ignore it for now. Again, he found himself praising his dedication in his usual arrogance.

Emet seemed to be particularly chatty today, which didn't bother him, but it made it very hard to resist getting a little more intense than he was right now.

"You sure are acting like the submissive one today...have you turned over a new leaf, perhaps?"

This earned Emet a cold look, piercing blue eyes boring holes into him. Emet raised one hand in peace, but he had a pleased look on his face, satisfied in knowing he struck a nerve. He knew how prideful Zana'a was and bottoming didn't suit him at all.

"Those are an awful lot of words to say 'Please don't satisfy me.'" Zana'a answered, nuzzling at his stomach before sitting up and giving an inquiring look as he hooked his thumbs in his pants.

Emet tilted his head in acknowledgement of the silent request, granting permission. Zana'a wasted no time in pulling his pants down, struggling for a moment as he had to shift aside to get them off fully. His ears perked up, panting a little now. He was still covered but the sight of seeing his cock, firm and quite visible through his smallclothes was irresistible. 

He dragged his nails gently along his inner thigh, working his way up to feel him over the cloth once again, still denying both of them the pleasure they were pining for. Carefully, he began to stroke him, an actual steady pace this time instead of one or two touches like before. Emet propped himself up on his elbows to watch, his expression intense. Occasionally his eyes flickered up to the face of his lover, who was very clearly barely holding it together. A little bit of drool dripped down from his mouth, growing hungrier for his body, eyes completely focused on his cock.

Zana'a's tail swished back and forth, face flushed as he sped up his ministrations, delighting in the moans and whimpers he was receiving. It spurred him on and as he felt Emet's breath quicken, he stopped completely, pulling his hand away from him. 

Finally glancing back up to the Ascian's face, he was met with a cross expression.

"You get off on torturing me, don't you? You are just the cruelest..." he cried out dramatically, throwing his arm over his face to hide his eyes.

"..."

This time he didn't get a response, as Zana'a was finally stripping him of the last piece of clothing he had. Emet lifted his hips up to help, desperate to free his erection from the confines of his smallclothes. Settling down from his over-the-top reaction, his gaze returned to the miqo'te who finally gripped him directly. They made eye contact, and neither would break it. The feeling between them was heated, the tension and desire almost palpable. They were panting, and Zana'a, while being careful, gentle and a total tease, was starting to break. The calm mask and demeanor he had been wearing was starting to fade.

"God, Emet..." he groaned, running his thumb over the tip and feeling him thoroughly, "You have a perfect body..."

It took the Ascian by surprise, as he wasn't used to Zana'a being so blunt and open with his praise. Usually it was delivered in a ridiculously round-about way, and ended with him looking embarrassed. The man was still not used to being honest with his feelings, having kept them pushed down deep for some fifteen years. But here he was, an adoring and desperate tone in his voice as he jacked him off.

That sort of honestly deserved to be rewarded and Emet-Selch leaned forward to catch him in a heated kiss, which was immediately reciprocated. Zana'a took no time in tasting him thoroughly and moaning into his mouth. His pace suffered from the distraction but Emet-Selch didn't protest or complain. This only added to his pleasure, always reveling in his clumsiness. Seeing him learn with his body was enjoyable.

Zana'a was drooling a lot by now, saliva dripping down his chin as he drew back. He moved away and Emet followed after with his mouth, hungry for more and looked particularly disappointed when he was denied. 

"Don't give me that look," Zana'a soothed, moving further down and positioning himself between his legs, "If you're so desperate for my kisses, I'll make you beg for them."

Emet swallowed hard, seeing the glint of his fangs as he brushed his mouth against his member. This was an entirely new and he wasn't sure what to expect from this, considering this man's oral fixation and obsession with biting.

"I will not be pleased if you bite down." he warned, eyes narrowing but stroking his hair encouragingly.

"I'm sure you won't."

He was inexperienced with oral, as he had never given it to him before. Not for lack of interest but he felt as if he was giving up too much control in the situation and it made him feel strange. But a bold urge had taken over, and he couldn't help but long for a taste. It couldn't be that difficult, could it?

He ran his tongue from the base to the tip, mentally making a note to try whatever it was that Emet-Selch would do to him. It always felt amazing, and he was hoping to make him feel as good.

There was already precum beading at the tip and when he tasted it, his ears folded back and he made a strange face, nose wrinkling. This wasn't what he would consider the best taste in the world, but if it was Emet...

Emet-Selch sighed, rolling his eyes and once again tugged at one of his ears, this time as if he was scolding him.

"And you call me dramatic... You don't see me making that face when I'm going down on you."

Zana'a scowled, giving another small lick as he tried to stay calm. 

"Are you implying I taste bad?"

A corner of Emet's lips tugged upwards and he stroked his hair soothingly, trying to reassure him as he spoke. 

"Oh, of course not~ I love tasting you, my hero~"

He couldn't tell if he was being mocked or not, but the way he said it, so bluntly and openly, made Zana'a flush a deep red. He broke eye contact, unable to look at his face after that. This man was absolutely shameless and unbelievably embarrassing, even in private. He did nothing but grunt in return as he returned his mouth to him, now silent as he mouthed at him.

Glancing up after a few more seconds of ghosting his lips against him, he got a decidedly naughty look on his face as he took a moment to drag his fangs against him, lightly pressing them down as if he was going to bite. It wasn't painful, simply a small pressure and a strange, arousing sense of danger.

Emet squinted, still stroking his hair, but gave a soft "Careful, now..." in warning.

It was a light nip, nothing that could be warranted as painful in any way, shape or form, but it still earned him the strangest moan he ever heard from Emet-Selch. It pleased him and he did it again, lightly tracing his fangs up to the tip, playfully asserting his control of the situation even while blowing him. Judging by the reactions he was getting, it was more than welcome and that set him to purring.

The vibrations from the purr made Emet clench his fists, spreading his legs a little more, breathing heavy and staring intensely. Slowly, painfully slow, Zana'a sunk his mouth onto him, his rough tongue a strange texture against him and he hissed through clenched teeth. 

He was inexperienced, that much was obvious, but he was making a genuine effort, bobbing his head up and down, fingers digging into Emet's thighs. It was endearing watching him try, and the wet heat was definitely pleasing to the Ascian, but he found himself wanting more and he took a moment to tap at his shoulder.

"Hmm-?" Zana'a pulled back, though making sure to gently run his teeth along him as he removed him from his mouth.

Emet stopped and took a moment to compose himself, seeing his boyfriend drooling with such a heated expression, pulling his mouth off his cock. He took a moment to cover his face with his hand and take a deep breath before looking back over the top of it.

Zana'a stared at him in silence, waiting for whatever asinine demand he had in the moment, whatever comment or critique he had for his skills. It didn't come, Emet-Selch simply clearing his throat and patting his head. Zana'a pushed his hand away, embarrassed at the simple action and sat back up, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

"Listen, do you have a problem?" 

Now Emet was sitting up to push him back, smirking and humming a little as he wasted no time in taking him in his hand while pressing his mouth over his. Zana'a eagerly reciprocated, finding himself more excited than anticipated over Emet tasting himself on his tongue. ­­They hadn't kissed this much, so heatedly, for as long as they had been together but Zana'a found himself loving the experience. He made a note that they needed to make this more frequent, even outside the bedroom. His lips were comforting in a strange way.

Pulling back, Emet bumped noses and laughed.

"Of course not, darling. I just think it seems like a good time to show you up," He was already positioning himself between his legs with a devilish expression as he continued to stroke him, "And you have been waiting to be touched for quite some time now, haven't you?"

Zana'a mouthed 'I think it seems like a good time to show you up' silently in a mocking way, rolling his eyes, but didn't comment any further.

His hard-on had been aching for any form of contact for too long and he instinctively bucked his hips into Emet's grip and gave a few short thrusts, just about completely losing control. He honestly thought he would finish right then and there and he bit down on his bottom lip, hard, to distract himself.

"I want you..." he breathed, eagerly moving his hips in time with every stroke, staring Emet-Selch down with an overwhelming intensity as his chest heaved with every breath.

The Ascian leaned down, clearly ready to give a demonstration on how it should be done. He was being very over the top and excessive with his moans, but Zana'a found no issue with the results. His mouth always felt so good, like it was made for him. But this time was different. He tangled his hand in his hair, guiding him to where he wanted him. And the second his lips touched him, he felt his body tremble and, unexpectedly to both of them, he went over the edge, finishing directly onto Emet's face without warning with a strange yelp.

Emet-Selch was at a loss for words, gently reaching up to dab at the cum dripping down his face. He examined it on his fingers before casually licking it off and giving Zana'a the most annoying look the miqo'te had ever seen.

"Already? That is a little disappointing," he commented, cleaning his fingers quite thoroughly in an agonizingly slow manner, "And here I was, excited to be claimed by my beast in heat."

He wasn't the only one seeming at a loss, of course, Zana'a shocked at how quickly he lost control. And worse yet, he didn't feel satisfied at all. No relief came from the orgasm, though the pleasure was more intense than anticipated. He felt pangs of arousal still coursing through him. He needed so much more.

"I didn't say you could stop touching me."

Emet looked up from lazily licking his fingers to see his partner still clearly aroused and ready to go. This was interesting, and he quite liked the look of this. He leaned back, sprawling against the nest of pillows and looked at him with a lazy grin.

Their relationship was a strange one. Even during times of intimacy, they couldn't help but goad each other. Emet-Selch loved to instigate it and loved how flustered Zana'a would get and how he'd overcompensate to assert his dominance again. It was the easiest way to get him going. He wasn't even sure if the miqo'te realized that he himself clearly got turned on over putting him in his place.

Zana'a's tail swished back and forth as he positioned himself between his legs. He wasn't quite ready to claim him fully yet, he wanted to see how far he could push his body. For now he experimented with grinding himself against Emet, their dicks sliding together, hardness brushing against each other.

He let out a shuddering moan, body shaking with every thrust. He leaned down to catch Emet in a short kiss before pulling away to move downwards once more, revisiting every mark he left with soft lips. His hips were stuttering at a weird pace, uncharacteristically sloppy. Precum was dripping down onto his partner and he closed his eyes, focusing on the sensation. Emet-Selch was enjoying the experience just as much as him, gratefully running his hand over his shoulders, back, and playing across his collarbone; he knew how sensitive he was there in particular and relished the sweet sounds he pulled out with the briefest brush of his fingertips.

"Fuck...!" Zana'a grunted, grinding a little harder and not even bothering to stop himself from drooling. He looked like he was going completely feral, as if living up to every time Emet-Selch had called him a beast in jest.

The heat was robbing him of his ability to think clearly and any resolve he had to hold back was completely shattered after cumming for the first time.

Reaching down, he started to stroke both of them together clumsily as he thrusted, body bending as he felt himself reaching his peak again. It felt like this would be more intense and he squeezed hard as he shot his cum across Emet's front.

"Gods...Emet-!" He cried out, slumping against him and still attempting to thrust. He still wasn't done. He needed more, he needed so much more. 

The pleasure was growing with every second that went by, every moment with their skin touching, their bodies together and sharing in the warmth of arousal and, perhaps somewhere in the back of his mind, love.

He was a little frustrated still at finishing so fast and so easily, when he was usually able to hold his own until they both were ready. He enjoyed finishing together, and wouldn't acknowledge the sentiment behind it, still far too proud and shy.

Finally he sat up, looking down at the mess he had left on his boyfriend's front and that made him put his hand over his mouth, biting down on his fingers. He looked far too attractive covered in his seed. He glanced away, covering his face fully as he turned bright red. Emet hummed contentedly, smearing a little bit across his stomach to taste once again, "You look amazing when you're coming apart like this. I mean it, truly."

He received an oddly affectionate nuzzle, if a little forceful. Zana'a wasn't responding besides purring as loud as he could and nibbling his earlobe, his neck, his tongue working against his skin as well. He was touching everywhere he could get his hands on, tasting anything his mouth could reach. There was particular attention paid to his upper neck, a strange urge to make visible, dark red and purple marks consuming his thoughts.

'Claim him' his body was crying out. A stupid thing for a Keeper to think, desperate to make him his and his alone, but he humored his thoughts and left a particularly bold patch of red skin. A memento for Emet to carry and for others to see. Zana'a was shameless.

"I didn't think you had it in you to go this many times, I admit." confessed Emet, but he clearly was pleased. The Ascian had no problem personally, but he'd never seen this man manage past one orgasm, let alone two.

Zana'a shook his head and reached over to the bedside table, leaning over Emet and getting some of his own cum on his front in the process. He didn't know how he felt about the sticky sensation but he ignored it as he fumbled with the drawer, having a particular amount of difficulty from reaching so far across. Emet-Selch made no effort to assist him, despite being closer. When he finally managed to pull it open, he rummaged around until he found the bottle of lube. Emet's eyes followed his hands, and trembled in anticipation, clearly more than ready to feel him inside.

He could barely get the top open, spilling a little bit onto the bed and over his hand as he coated his fingers a little thoroughly. Emet playfully squeezed his thighs together, causing Zana'a to have to push them gently open and he gave a pleased hum. Zana'a still managed to take his time, despite how desperate he was to be in him already. He traced his fingers around his entrance before working one digit in, all while watching Emet's face to see his reaction. His eyes were closed now and he gripped the sheets.

When he slid in another, he pulled out that noise he loved the most: an uncharacteristically soft moan. He leaned down to bite at his chest as he pumped his fingers into him, stretching him slowly. Finally, one more finger. He curled them and pushed down, causing Emet to buck his hips upward.

"Come on, my hero... I'm perfectly fine and ready for you."

Zana'a still lingered, enjoying the involuntary reactions he got whenever he rubbed him inside, but finally obliged, withdrawing his hand and pulling Emet's hips to him. He didn't enter him immediately, taking time to rub himself outside, droplets of his drool falling onto his chest. His tail lashed from side to side as he teased the tip into him before pulling out again. Emet-Selch was not impressed, pushing his hips down to take more of him in.

Zana'a pulled back, resisting the temptation and urging, making Emet huff angrily. Finally, he was getting a chance to do what he did, and he did find himself enjoying that bratty expression. Again, he started pushing in, with short, shallow thrusts, not in all the way. It wasn't enough for either of them.

"Say my name..." Zana'a said gruffly, rubbing his partner's thighs and kneading them carefully.

Emet paused, giving his usual smug expression before responding far too dramatically.

"Oh, Zana'a, great warrior of light~ Please, grace me with your cock~"

Zana'a's face scrunched up in disgust at that sentence, ears folding back and stopping completely.

"That might be one of the least arousing sentences you've said, Emet-Selch. Stop being so disgusting."

The Ascian laughed, pushing himself up onto his hands to give him a soft kiss, and murmured quietly against his cheek.

"Zana'a..."

The way he said it, deep and slow, this time genuinely meaning it, was enough to finally motivate Zana'a to push in all the way, hilting himself inside. This caused a sharp gasp to escape the two of them, Zana'a's mind starting to drift off into a haze. All he could focus on was the warmth surrounding him. It was taking everything in his power to not completely lose control and go as hard as he usually did, but there were cracks here and there in his resolve, ready to break any moment.

He set up a steady, slow pace, leaning down to whisper into Emet's ear a string of obscenities which only spurred himself to start moving more. He reached down to start stroking Emet in time with each unsteady thrust, sweat beading on him; another addition to the mess he'd made of himself, and his boyfriend as well. 

Zana'a couldn't help but brush his fangs over his exposed skin, panting heavily and still drooling. The tip of his tail vibrated as he started to pick up the pace, whining needily. He wanted to feel him deeper, more fully. He needed him, wanted him, every inch of him had to be his. 

"Emet-Selch--" he moaned, unable to hold back anymore.

His hips snapped oughly into him, harder than he had been before, the room filled with the sound of skin on skin. Arms wrapped around him and nails dragged down his back lightly as his partner returned the dirty talk. Asked for more, asked for it harder, for him to go deeper.

Then he said something that unlocked something deep inside and make him lose complete control.

"I know exactly what you want to hear," he whispered breathily, "Breed me, hero."

He had said it in jest many times before, but it almost sounded genuine this time. Zana'a broke completely. The primal urge overcame him and he thrust in like a man possessed, not holding anything back anymore. He squeezed the man's member tightly as he stroked faster, chest heaving with every breath. He was going to breed him like he asked, fill him up over and over. It didn't even cross his mind how ridiculous the notion was, but instincts ruled over logic for the moment. Every thrust was strong enough to shift the bed slightly, he was so aggressive, but still taking time to give soft kisses up and down his neck and across his collarbone. 

"Fuck, fuck, fuck..." He was almost chanting it with every movement, eyes shut tight and pressing his forehead against his chest. He was trying so hard not to finish but it was becoming increasingly harder. Emet kept making the noises he loved to hear, and feeling his body pressed up against his, even with the sticky mess between them, was everything he needed.

"I'm going to cum...I'm going to fill you up-" 

  
  


Emet dug his nails into his back a little deeper and moved his hips to meet his thrusts, panting heavily.

  
  


"Go on, then... cum inside, you beast!"

He gasped as he thrust in once more, as deep as he could go, releasing inside him and filling him up. He grinded into him roughly as he rode out his orgasm, and continued to stroke the Ascian until he joined him with his name on his lips, finishing directly onto his own body and on Zana'a.

Emet-Selch's back arched up, rolling his hips as he felt himself coming down and enjoying the sensation of still being so full. There was a part of him hoping they'd continue but he noticed how physically exhausted Zana'a looked so he pulled him close and stroked his hair idly.

"You truly impressed me tonight." His praise was met with an exhausted smile, eyes glimmering with that familiar sense of arrogance. Emet knew how much it pleased him to have his ego stroked, especially in the haze after sex.

He received a few gentle kisses in return and Zana'a rested his head on his chest, still not pulling out. He still felt fairly aroused, but for now he just wanted to rest. He was covered in sweat, cum and drool and felt like an absolute disaster. Casually he wiped up a bit of his seed from Emet's chest and held it to his lips. This was one of his favorite things, watching him lick it up and he gave a satisfied purr.

As he finally pulled out, he sighed at the loss of warmth and closeness and rolled onto his back, laying next to Emet. He was still breathing heavily and glanced over, meeting Emet's golden eyes. He lightly reached over to run the back of his hand over his cheek, a foreign intimate gesture that he had never attempted before, and one that was met with lips to his wrist and a hand over his. They didn't talk, both at a loss for words for once. There was a sense of calm settling over them and Zana'a gave a contented purr, and actually smiled. It was small, and if you didn't know him, looked disingenuine, but he really meant it. He felt happy in this second, this private moment between the two, as if the rest of the world had melted away.

The burden of his star had faded to a dull hum in the back of Emet's mind, if only for the briefest, fraction of a fleeting second, something he felt disappointed in himself over almost immediately. The stress of the wars, the trauma, the struggles he had gone through was nothing to Zana'a. It was just each other.

Finally the mess of it all was starting to catch up to them and Zana'a weakly pushed himself up, running his hand down his front and giving an unpleasant expression.

"I need to clean up." he stated plainly, crawling the long way across the bed since Emet had so brtu kindly taken up the other side and didn't seem like he was going to move to let him off, even when he pushed at his side. He had even reached out to catch his wrist to pull him back in.

"I think looking like an absolute mess suits you."

Zana'a rolled his eyes, gently removing his hand from the man's grip and standing up. As he got to his feet he stumbled a bit, legs feeling like they were barely there as he braced himself against the nightstand so he didn't fall over. He heard Emet start laughing behind him and he burned red with embarrassment.

"Shut up, you nasty old man!" he snapped, which only made Emet laugh again. He was now sitting up and winced as he swung his legs over the edge of the bed to get up.

"...At the risk of living up to that thoroughly annoying moniker you've given me, you did do a number on my hips." he sighed, flopping back onto the bed and sprawling out as if giving up on getting up entirely. 

Zana'a rolled his eyes and wobbled back over to the bed, leaning down over him and squinting.

He gave another look over at what a mess he made and shook his head, "You're getting cleaned up too. I'm not having you laying in my bed and getting...that everywhere."

Emet grumbled and sat up again, needing a moment to steady himself as he stood up. They both were teetering around like absolute fools. Zana'a offered his hand to steady him, as useless as that would be with how they both were, but instead Emet took it in his own with a smug look on his face. Zana'a refused to look at him.

Together they swayed into the bathroom and Zana'a got the bath running, sighing as he leaned against the wall before sliding to the floor. Emet rested himself against the sink countertop, looking down at him deep in thought.

Glancing up, Zana'a inclined his head curiously, becoming too tired to get particularly snappy. He felt like he was melting into a puddle.

"Is something on you mind?"

Emet paused and didn't say anything. There were a few emotions that crossed his face before he settled on his usual casual expression, waving his hand dismissively, "Of course. But I'm not inclined to tell you at the moment, if at all."

The miqo'te huffed, shrugging his shoulders and reaching over into the bath to feel the temperature. It felt warm enough, and was full enough so he shut the faucet off before weakly getting to his feat. Emet was already getting in, sinking contentedly into the water.

"The one who is taller is usually the one who sits behind, hmm?"

Zana'a bristled but didn't comment as he joined him. If there was one thing that drove him absolutely insane, it was the very minimal height difference between them. He was abnormally tall for a miqo'te, and he was proud of that fact. But of course this man had to be just barely taller than him, and he liked to comment on it every so often to tease him. Somehow everyone in his life still managed to be taller. As he sunk into the water, however, any annoyances washed away. Leaning back against Emet, he felt his arms encircle him and his chin rest on his head. It was oddly comforting, feeling his weight on top of him and he let go of any tension in his body and started to relax.

The warmth and closeness was melting away the overwhelming urges for the moment, a calm in the middle of what he presumed was going to be a long couple of days. Carefully, Emet reached for the washcloth hanging next to them, dipped it into the water and gently began to wipe the miqo'te down, alarmingly gentle. The water felt good and being relieved of the sticky feeling that had begun to feel uncomfortable and gross was more than welcome.

His eyes closed and he put his full weight back against the man and Emet kissed the top of his head, muttering something he couldn't quite hear. He didn't ask him to repeat it, lost in a daze. This was what love could feel like? He had gone for so long without a touch like this, without moments like this, and he realized how hollow it had been. He didn't need anyone else to be validated, to care about himself, he knew he was talented.And he did have a friend, someone he trusted. But he never realized how badly he needed this connection, it felt like something inside him that he didn't realize was broken was being mended slowly.

And by this man of all people. 

He should have felt some shame over who it was, but he needed him, more than he had ever needed someone.

Emet moved his hand behind to wipe down his own front as well, having to be a bit more thorough with the amount of mess that got on him, humming happily to himself.

"I think you should take the day off." he commented casually and Zana'a frowned a little.

"I don't do days off." he responded, eyes still shut. Somewhere in his mind he thought it sounded like a good idea, though.

Washcloth set aside, he found himself caged in the man's arms, pulled tight against his chest. This apparently wasn't a suggestion but what Emet-Selch was considering to be a statement that was going to be true, regardless of whether he liked it or not. He didn't have it in him to protest of course, his body feeling like jelly and completely giving in to the contact. 

They spent a good while in the bathroom, and as the water began to cool, Zana'a shifted uncomfortably and braced against the tub as he lifted himself out, feeling cleaner than he had been and a lot more ready to crawl back into bed. As his partner got out of the bath with him, he playfully tugged at his tail which earned him a small yelp and a sharp slap to his hand. He smirked and took a towel to start drying himself off, never taking his eyes of Zana'a. When he had been thoroughly dried, he took the towel to ruffle the miqo'te's hair, leaving it a fluffy mess. He seemed pleased with his work and walked out of the bathroom without another word. His gait was still off and Zana'a was the one smirking now, proud of himself for being the one to make him walk that way.

Together they climbed into bed, now under the covers in what could only be called the nest of pillows Zana'a slept in. Hands found each other, fingers intertwined for a few moments and Zana'a pulled himself close. If there was one thing he couldn't help, it was desperately clinging to Emet in his sleep as if he was a lifeline. The warmth helped him sleep, and the pressure of his arms squeezing him to his chest was soothing. No nightmares followed him in the night when he was held carefully like this.

His broken purr was steady and he draped his still damp tail over Emet's legs and closed his eyes. For now he was satisfied, relieved of the immediate tension and grateful.

As he dozed off, Emet stroked his head, kissed the top of his head and found himself lost in thought and within his memories. In this moment, still, he was just as content.


	8. Contemplation [SFW]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Emet-Selch is subtly selfish and uncaring about the rest of the world, buried under a ton of fluff.

It was surprising to Emet-Selch. He found there was very little to dislike about the man, despite being a shadow of who he had been. Despite his foul temper, his bitter words and scornful looks. He was pleased with who he was, satisfied with what they had come to nurture between themselves. He sat on the couch, watching the man work at the desk, eyes focused on the paper and quill moving fast, looping letters for all his thoughts.

It was interesting, watching someone like this desperately trying to understand Aether, and how the world worked. So long ago, it would have come as natural as breathing. A simple thing, an easy lesson taught to children. But now he had to work for it, struggle, fight against his very frail, shallow existence and the limitations that came with it.

It was endearing and he felt a smile tug at the corner of his lips.

Of these pitiful creatures, he was his favorite. His beloved, his soulmate, broken into so many pieces like a puzzle spilling from atop a table. But he seemed to be mostly put together by now. The Rejoinings had done much to heal his soul, the red growing brighter, unmistakable like a fire, burning out of control yet still so serenely. When he closed his eyes, he could almost hear the flutter of wings, the whisper of feathers across his cheeks.

He never opened them to Coeus, but his heart still warmed at seeing Zana'a. It was a small hope. A desperate wish. Things could be different this time around, this lifetime, perhaps this warrior could be the one to satisfy him as none had before. Zodiark had his grasp on him, body and mind, but perhaps by His will, he would be spared some time for this man's lifetime, a blink of an eye, a fraction of a second in the universe. 

It would be time well spent, he was sure. 

Perhaps if he asked him, he would stay by his side. It would be a heavy thing to ask, of course. But maybe if he held him close, stroked his hair, and whispered into his ear, and gave a plea from the heart the man would listen. Emet-Selch hummed a little to himself, daydreaming of Zana'a coming with him, hand in hand, on a journey to the Rejoining.

He could almost imagine the wonder on his face, the sparkle in his eyes, hungry for knowledge, as he looked at the towering buildings of Amaurot. The rare smile that would come to his face, ears perked and excited to explore. Everything he could ever want to know would be before him, no mystery out of reach. 

He could create, discover, and they would find joy in their new life. 

This tender thought was not his to know yet, though. It was something he would guard close to his heart, not ready to get his hopes or expectations up. He had done it before and ended up feeling more bitter and hollow than before. But still... here, he felt like there was a chance.

His hands were meant for his. His eyes were the same blue, his hair soft to the touch, perfect for running his fingers through. Zana'a's lips were the same, though he had never seen Coeus frown as much. As much as he willed it, it wasn't truly him, but he was satisfied. Their souls would be joined no matter where they went, no matter how broken he was.

Without a word, he stood up and moved over to Zana'a, placing his hands on his shoulder which prompted the man to jump and let out a startled hiss, fur fluffing up and expression accusatory. Emet-Selch simply soothed him by taking his tail and gently stroking his fur down. Of all the new parts of him, he enjoyed his tail quite a bit. Plush, white, fluffy fur that his idle hands often found, petting it gently. Zana'a would give a quiet purr, almost attempting to stifle the sound but it was clear he enjoyed the touch.

Their moments of quiet affection, without jabs, words or bitter masks hiding their hearts filled him with a warmth that he hadn't known in so many years. When he kissed the back of his neck and could almost picture that embarrassed scowl. When they found themselves tangled together, heated and in a moment of passion. And those moments, when they were at their peak, when Zana'a intertwined their fingers together without thinking about it. 

It was always him. It would always be him. No matter how many worlds apart, how many stars, how much time, this was who he was meant to be with. 

"What do you want, Emet?" Zana'a demanded impatiently, one ear flicking in an agitated manner, "...What's with that weird face?"

"Ah, nothing, nothing~ Just looking over your flawed thesis and methods, of course." 

Empty jeering. He was trying his best, as much as he could with the state he was in. Sometimes he was tempted to help him, explain everything now, but there would be no fun in spelling the world out to a scholar. It was his to desperately seek, perhaps hopelessly in this lifetime. But it pleased him.

Emet-Selch put his hand on the miqo'te's chin to tilt his face to him and gave him a soft kiss, which Zana'a was clearly startled by, but slowly reciprocated, eyes closing. He looked disappointed when they parted, expression soft and curious. He tilted his head, his angry front slipping down for a moment.

"...Emet?" 

All Emet-Selch gave him in return was a placid smile. He could hear those words from Coeus, his first 'I love you.' He could remember how it felt to say it in return. 

Once more he leaned down, overcome with nostalgia and giving in to the temptation of the moment.

"I love you." he murmured in a low voice, barely audible.

Zana'a stared in disbelief, dropping his quill to the ground, as well as his jaw. He didn't know what to say and turned bright red, tail fluffing up more than it had before. He had no idea how to respond and instead made a strange, confused noise.

Emet-Selch laughed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is all getting longer and longer... I'm thinking about maybe doing a separate fic with just Zana'a for more context on everything but Idk, I'd like some feedback on that. 
> 
> Thank you for the positive response on this, though, it means a lot and is very encouraging. ;w;


End file.
